Draco in Wonderland
by Indee
Summary: Draco is tasked to clean out the Ministries book storage, and in the process stumbles upon Alice in Wonderland. Only the book is more magical than it appears, and soon Draco is stuck in a land that is quite... well, odd. H/D
1. Prequel

"This is ridiculous," Draco said, glaring at the rows upon rows of dusty, old books that smelled of mildew. As though it were their fault that he was being forced to go through them and sort. "This isn't my job."

Potter snorted, flipping through one of the old books. He had the dust-turned-thick-disgusting-grime smudged across his cheek. Draco shuddered. They didn't even get _gloves_. This was so wrong.

"It's not like we were doing anything important," Potter said as he tossed the book into a box. They were supposed to be careful with the ancient and post-modern tomes, but honestly, they both didn't give a flying rat's arse about some musty old books. Even if Potter wouldn't admit it, they would both have rather been out catching the bad guys and saving the world and what have you. Well, really, Draco would have preferred to be having a nice cup of tea and doing nothing at all, but the world wasn't perfect. That and he'd been forced to get a job since the blasted Ministry had seized all his father's assets, making him pretty much broke.

So there they were, sorting books for the Artifacts department.

"You should have argued," said Draco stubbornly, examining a book that had neither a title nor author listed. How were they supposed to sort books that weren't properly labelled, anyhow? He opened the cover and a plume of dust went up. He coughed and held the book at arms length away. Gross.

"And then we'd be stuck with an even worse job," Potter answered, just as stubbornly. They weren't the perfect partners, that was for sure. They got the job done but one always wondered if someone would lose a limb along the way. He heard Potter mumble something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like 'git'. "If you actually would help, we'd get the job done faster and be off on our merry way."

Draco glared. As if he wasn't helping. He glanced at the boxes on Potter's side and the boxes on his side. Okay, so Potter had sorted more books. He probably wasn't even looking at the titles and authors and appendices like Draco was. Draco dropped the book he was holding into the box labelled 'Unknown'. It probably should have been labelled something like 'ridiculously dusty' or 'in need of cleaning.'

"Why can't they just use magic like normal people and sort them that way?" Draco grumbled, pulling a smaller book off one of the low shelves. Another book that went unlabelled.

"Something about magic mixing and delicate pages," Potter answered through a cough. He was waving his hand in front of his face. One of the books was smoking. Well, if Potter was just going to destroy the books, Draco shouldn't have to do anything at all. "I dunno, I wasn't really listening."

"Do you ever?" Draco muttered under his breath, but Potter had stupidly good hearing (probably to offset his decidedly bad vision - or perhaps it was practice from all those years he spent sneaking about eevesdropping) and he shot Draco a glare. Draco rolled his eyes before turning back to the task at hand.

He peeled open the cover of the unremarkable book he'd pulled off the rickety shelves.

"You're bloody kidding me."

"What?" Potter asked, glancing over at Draco. Draco held up the book for Potter to see.

"This is a bloody story book," he snapped. He hadn't signed up for sorting bedtime stories. These were supposed to be legitimate magic books, not... Alice in Wonderland. He flipped the book back around and flipping a few pages, landing on the first chapter.

_Alice was beginning to get very tired of sitting by her sister on the bank..._

His eyes skimmed the first few words and that was when he felt it. There was a tug behind his navel and a bit of a dizzying sensation.

Well, blimey. So the book was magical.


	2. Down the Rabbit Hole

"This is ridiculous," Draco said to himself as cupboards and tea trays and all manner of odds and ends swirled past him as he fell down the hole. Not so much a hole, he reminded himself, as a portal to certain doom. He tilted his head back and looked up from where he'd been sucked into the book, but it was completely black above his head. Now, he would have done the sensible thing and grabbed onto something in an attempt to climb back out of the hole, but he knew better. Climbing wouldn't get him anywhere. Besides, he'd fallen an awfully long way and had no desire to try and climb that distance again.

All at once he hit the bottom of the hole with a soft thump. Naturally the fall should have killed him or at least broken his legs, but he knew better than to trust logic in this circumstance. Chances were that the book wasn't even a portal, but some spell that knocked him out cold and now his mind was stuck in this odd storybook. Potter better have been working on a way to get him out (or awake, depending), or so help him when Draco did manage to get back.

It was the ticking sound that drew his attention. Peering into the darkness, Draco followed his way to the end of a small, dank tunnel into an open room with nothing but a table and walls covered in mismatched doors. By a curtain at the far end of the room was a rabbit. Or at least, Draco thought it was a rabbit, but when he blinked again, he was actually fairly certain it was Blaise Zabini in a bunny costume, complete with false ears and a fuzzy tail. He was quite small, though, no taller than his knee and he disappeared behind the curtain before Draco could say anything.

Well, that was definitely odd. He was pretty sure that Blaise hadn't been sucked into the book before him, which made him decide that this whole misadventure must have been taking place in his mind. There it could warp reality and twist fantasy and Blaise was a rabbit person. Draco sighed. What else was he supposed to do, other than follow? Alice didn't get out of her rabbit hole by simply meandering about the room full of doors, hoping her older sister would somehow pull her out again.

Striding over to the table, Draco grabbed the small key that lay there and the tiny bottle with the label that said 'Drink Me'. Under normal circumstance, Draco would have checked at least twelve times to make sure that the substance wasn't poison, but since he was certain that he wasn't actually consuming anything in reality, he downed the liquid in a quick gulp, held fast to the key and felt himself shrinking. Or shutting up like a telescope or something.

Everything became quite dark suddenly and Draco realized he had disappeared into the folds of his oversized robes. Fantastic. Now he was to wander about in his dreamland naked. Not that it mattered, he thought, since it was _his_ mind and it wasn't as though anyone would _actually_ see him in the nude. Still, it felt real enough and there was a bit of a draft coming from the hole. Disentangling himself from his black robes, he found he wasn't naked at all, but wearing something altogether _more_ embarrassing than if he'd been wandering around naked.

Draco immediately removed the frilly apron from around his waist and chucked it as far as he could throw (which wasn't far at all, considering he was about twelve inches tall.) Unfortunately, without his wand or any other means of devising a more suitable outfit, Draco was simply going to have to go about in what he _did_ wear - which wasn't a dress, I assure you.

He wore a powder blue vest over a collared shirt that had been rolled up at the sleeves and a white striped bow-tie that seemed to be nothing more than a clip-on. But that wasn't the worst of it. Although powder blue was not typically a color Draco preferred to wear, he would never have been caught dead in shorts that were far too... well, _short_. He could only be thankful he wasn't wearing stockings and instead a pair of plain socks and black shoes (which he was pretty certain was the only thing that hadn't been changed from his wardrobe.)

With a slight grumble, Draco clutched the key tight in his fist and went over to the curtain where he knew would be a door that lead to some wonderful garden with talking flowers and the like. Perhaps he'd find Blaise and maybe he'd actually have something sensible to say about all this nonsense. Then again, he knew Blaise and he doubted that even in a twisted fantasy world, Blaise would ever have anything sensible to say.

Parting the curtain, Draco walked up to the little door and pushed the key into the tiny keyhole. Immediately the lock clicked and the door swung open. Venturing into the garden, Draco walked a bit oddly. He was not used to wearing shorts, especially not ones so short or _tight_. This was stupid. If he was in his own mind, he should at least be able to dictate what it was he _wore_. Because he sure wouldn't have been wearing what he was nearly positive was one hundred percent polyester.

With a quick glance over the surrounding gardens, Draco found he couldn't find Blaise to be anywhere in sight. Or at least, there was no sign of a person wearing false rabbit ears and a stuffed tail. Instead there were flowers, hundreds of them, larger than he was.

"Hey!" shouted a familiar voice from amidst the mass of flora. "Draco! Over here!"

Curiously, Draco followed the shouting, pushing aside flowers that exclaimed as he went by.

"Well, _excuse_ me," a Petunia declared, glaring furiously at him. He found it slightly creepy that a flower would have eyes that watched him as he walked by. He would probably never look at flowers the same.

One whistled. "Nice shorts, love."

Draco instinctively reached for his wand to curse the offending violet into oblivion, but realized all too late that it wasn't in his sleeve where it should have been. Naturally he wouldn't have his wand in this place. Now if only he could hone his mental prowess so that he could merely blow the flower to bits with a single thought.

"Draco!"

Draco gaped up at the flower that stared down at him.

"_Daphne_?" he said in shock. Daphne Greengrass (or rather, Daphne the Daffodil) twisted this way and that, looking as though she wanted to pull up her own roots. Her blonde hair had been replaced with pale yellow petals, but her features seemed about the same set in the yellow corona. If the other flowers had been odd-looking or creepy, Daphne the Daffodil was by far the creepiest of them all. She looked as though she'd been swallowed by the flower, rather than actually _being_ the flower.

"Yes, it's me," Daphne said with a slight whimper, squirming. Her stem moved like a snake in mid air. "Blast, this is so annoying! Where is Blaise? He was here a minute ago. Said he was late for something. As if, Blaise is never on time to anything and he never cares. He just didn't want to deal with Daphne the frickin' flower."

Draco took a step back. Daphne was usually pleasant, but when she angry, she had a temper. And she seemed fairly upset. Then again, Draco wouldn't exactly be pleased if he was a flower, either.

"Did you see where he went?" Draco asked, glancing about. At least Blaise would be of slightly more use than Daphne. At least Blaise had two legs (never mind how hoppy they might be.)

"Oh, great, you're just going to off and leave me, too, are you?" Daphne wailed, her flower-head shaking from side to side. "Do you know how lonely it is to be a flower? For one thing, all I have are these stupid other flowers to keep me company and they're all _women_. You know how much I hate women! They're so jealous and conniving and they always get in the way when I try to sleep with their husbands, you know? And that's another thing! Flowers can't have sex! Not proper sex, anyway. The closest we get is _bees_ and I'm allergic to bees!"

Draco stared at her. This was getting ridiculous. He understood that he was in bloody Wonderland and things would be loopy, but he didn't have the patience to deal with Daphne as a person let alone a whingy flower. He tried to hold in the sigh of annoyance that threatened to escape. He gave a cursory look around. Which way might Blaise have gone if he'd tried to get away from Daphne as fast as he could?

"Oh, he went that way," Daphne moaned, bobbing her head to the west and waving the leaves on her stem in the same direction. She looked like she was trying to do a tribal dance while stuck in a flower costume. Draco blinked before nodding.

"Thanks," he said as he walked in the direction she had pointed. She continued to wail to the surrounding flowers, bemoaning her life as a daffodil and how _everyone_ had left her (she had been sure to say this loud enough that Draco could hear, but he ignored her anyway.)

Walking on, Draco gave a long yawn. It was hot in the garden, among other things, and he was getting to be quite exhausted. Was it possible to get tired in a dream? Well, considering it was a magic dream, probably. If he fell asleep, would he wake up in reality? How had Alice gotten out of _her_ twisted dream, anyway? Draco couldn't recall. He really didn't know much about the tale, since he'd only given it a cursory once-over when one of the Muggleborns at Hogwarts had left a copy in the library. He'd been curious about the muggle book, but upon closer inspection, had deemed it silly and so typically _muggle. _

As he left the garden behind, he found himself on a small trail that wound up from the garden to a small house that sat on a hill. It was a very quaint house, with a freshly painted white picket fence and flower boxes full of primroses and violets (that weren't taller than he was). The siding was of pale blue wood slats and there was a small, white brick chimney with colored smoke billowing out the top. On a quaint mailbox that sat at the bottom of the hill read the letters _W. RABBIT_.

Well, that could only mean _B. ZABINI_, so Draco quickly walked up the trail and to the front of the house. Knowing Blaise, he knocked twice and hesitated in opening the door. Blaise was nearly as bad as Daphne, so waltzing into his home, even in Wonderland, was probably very dangerous. You never knew what compromising position you might catch him in.

As he pushed open the door, he heard a loud thud from the back of the house and he nearly shut the door again, not wanting to see anything that might be going on inside the tiny home. It would just be like Blaise to soil an image as pretty as this with his salacious lifestyle. But when he realized that the thud was not followed by any other noises, Draco pressed onward into the house, keeping his eyes slightly squinted, just in case.

The house was overwhelmingly hot. There was a large fireplace that nearly took up the entire front sitting room and inside it was a large fire that changed colors from pink to blue to green and back again. Although most of the smoke was being sucked up the chimney Draco had seen from the outside of the house, some was drifting about the room in a sweet smelling haze. Draco coughed, blinking against the odd smoke. It caught in his eyes and lungs and made his skin feel tingly.

Go figure Blaise would have a fireplace that got him _high_.

"Blaise?" Draco called out, waving his hand in front of his face to clear the smoke. The heat was making him sleepy and the overly-pleasant smoke was not helping matters. He stumbled over a short, white table as he made his way to where a door swung back and forth. He coughed again, hoping that it might elevate the drowsiness, but it did nothing to help and Draco almost plopped down on the sofa in the hazy room, his limbs felt so heavy. Maybe napping wasn't such a bad idea.

As he found himself sitting on the sofa, he called out to Blaise once more before his eyes began to droop shut. He felt himself sinking into sleep before he could stop himself, and eventually fell back into the cushions of the overstuffed sofa, the heavy curtain of sleep shutting on him.


	3. Chapter 3

Draco awoke to something tickling his ankles. At first he kicked at whatever it was with his foot, as he normally did when something was bothering him and he was trying to sleep. But the tickling was incessant and wouldn't stop, so finally he pulled himself awake, blinking blearily at his surroundings. There was a large fireplace, a comfy sofa with overstuffed cushions and a mouse on his foot.

So much for waking up in reality.

As he became less groggy and more awake and his vision was cleared of the fuzziness of sleep, he realized that the mouse on his foot wasn't a mouse at all. At least, not any mouse he had ever seen. It was covered with grey fur, but atop its head sat two red pigtails.

"_Weasley?" _Draco said incredulously, looking at the very tiny mouse form of the girl Weasley. This really shouldn't have surprised him at all. Blaise was a rabbit and Daphne was a flower, so why wouldn't Ginny Weasley be a mouse? But why was she in his alternate reality at all? He barely paid her any mind in reality, let alone in his mind. In fact, he and Potter worked with the ginger-haired girl quite often and Draco hadn't spoken much more than a few words to her in three years.

"Great," came Ginny's small, tinny voice. Peering closer, Draco saw that she wasn't _actually _covered in fur, but rather she was wearing a grey dress that only resembled fur. There was a tail sewn into the back and a headband on her head adorned with grey ears. Her nose came to a point that was fastened on with a band. It was ridiculous. "You're awake."

"I doubt that," Draco muttered, plucking the ginger off his foot and raising her to eyelevel. She squirmed and crossed her arms, the look on her face positively deadly. "What in Merlin's name are you doing?"

"It's not what I'm doing, Malfoy, it's what _you're _doing. If you stay here any longer, you'll never get out of Wonderland," Ginny the Mouse said, waving a hand in front of her false nose and pointing towards the fireplace that was puffing out purple smoke. "You'll be higher than a kite and never find your way out. Bloody Zabini, getting all that smoke-weed from the Caterpillar. Never knows when to stop."

"Right," Draco said with a nod, holding back a roll of the eyes. This was all so ridiculous, Draco could hardly believe it. Standing up on tingly legs with Ginny the Dormouse in his grasp, he made for the doorway at the back of the room. Oddly, though it felt as though he'd been asleep for ages, the door was still swinging back and forth. Pushing through it, he found himself in a large kitchen – larger than the tiny house could possibly hold. Going over to the counter, he set the Weasley mouse on the surface and rubbed the smoke from his eyes. He looked at her as he did so. "Why are you helping me?"

"Why?" Ginny said, tilting her head. She seemed to be pondering the question, as though she hadn't even had a reason to do so in the first place. "Well… Because you want me to, I suppose."

"That doesn't make any sense," Draco furrowed his brow and folded his arms. "I wasn't even awake."

"You probably would never wish for my help _consciously_," Ginny the Mouse said, pacing back and forth on the tile counter. She kept tripping in the grout edges and smoothing her dress with one hand while the other fiddled with her false nose. "But you want out of this place, don't you? And I can help."

"You're a mouse," Draco pointed out. To prove his point, he set his finger straight up beside her, indicating that she was hardly taller than his largest finger. She gave a squeak of indignation and kicked his finger. Surprisingly, it hurt more than he'd thought it would. Pulling it away, he glared at her. "Not to mention, a Weasley."

"Well then!" Ginny nattered angrily. "If you don't want my help, then just get out of here by yourself, then! You'll come back when you can't find your way out!"

Before Draco could say anything to protest, she was scurrying across the tile faster than she ought to have moved at that size. She leapt from the edge of the counter and disappeared into a hole at the bottom of the lowest cupboards. He shook his head. This was getting queerer and queerer. But she had done him a favor; he was out of the hazy living room and thus the tingling and sleepiness was beginning to wear off considerably. With a deep breath, he made his way to a small door at the back of the kitchen that lead to what Draco could only assume was the house's backyard.

As he pushed the door open, he was only a bit surprised to see that the house seemed to have been transported from the hilltop to a dense forest that blocked out any sunlight from above. The trees were twisted and gnarled and seemed to be reaching for one another across a dimly lit path. Acknowledging his curiosity, Draco went to the edge of the house and peered around to the front, but there was no sign of the garden that had been there before nor the hill or even the white picket fence. It was gone and replaced with gloom.

Fantastic.

Without a guide, Draco found himself wandering the trail, batting away insects that whispered dark secrets in his ears that only he knew himself and would never repeat. It was only further indication that this was all in his mind; surely the insects of another world wouldn't know what was in his head, would they?

The trail seemed to wind on and on and Draco felt as though he wasn't getting anywhere fast. A broom would have been useful at this point, so that he could at least get above the canopy of trees and see where it was he was going. Just as he was starting to get dreadfully bored and a might bit tired, he caught sight of the rabbit-impersonator that was Blaise.

"Blaise!" Draco shouted, but when Blaise disappeared around the bend of the trail, Draco began to get irritated. This entire dream world, or whatever it was, was beginning to wear on his nerves. Daphne was _not _a flower, Blaise was _not _a stupid rabbit, the Weasley girl was _not _an annoying mouse and this entire place did _not _exist. So why did he have to put forth so much effort to get out of here? It was entirely _not _worth his while. This was all Potter's fault for making him help him sort those stupid books.

Two great, hulking beasts came trudging around the corner, their dark eyes blinking with little intelligence. Draco started until he realized who it was dressed in ill-fitting shirts and shorts that were nearly as ridiculous as the ones he wore (if only because of whom was wearing them.)

"Greg! Vince! Thank _god_," Draco said. Normally he would not have been at all happy to see either of them since they were both dumb as a sack of bricks and Crabbe was all corpsified, but it was at least nice to see a familiar face that wasn't sprouting from flowers or wearing a stupid furry costume.

"'Lo, Draco," said Goyle, rubbing the top of his head. He seemed confused by something which wasn't exactly surprising since most things confused Goyle. Draco eyed Crabbe cautiously. It was strange seeing his dead school chum like this. Well, that and the last time Crabbe and he had spoke, nasty words had been exchanged and Draco had secretly wished that Crabbe would drop down dead, which had happened shortly after. "We were looking for something."

"Great," Draco said, glancing about. He wondered if the Crabbe in his mind would do something stupid, like attack him. It would be just his luck that he didn't have his wand to defend himself. But he had one advantage. Draco was quick when he wanted to be and Crabbe was stupid and slow. "Me too."

"Only thing is," said Crabbe, his eyes drooping as though he were in some sort of dazed half-sleep. "I don't remember what it was."

"Neither do I," said Goyle, scrunching his forehead. Draco rolled his eyes. Sometimes he was amazed that they ever remembered their own names. "But I think it was this way."

Goyle turned down a side-path off the trail that Draco was fairly positive hadn't been there before. Crabbe trudged after and Draco hesitantly followed. It was better than wandering around the trail with no direction at all. Still, he didn't trust Crabbe as far as he could throw him and Goyle was iffy at best.

"There it is!" Crabbe said suddenly, making Draco jump backwards. They had hardly walked fifty paces and a great manor loomed in front of them. It had been impossible to see in the dense forest with underbrush and a dense canopy blocking the view of anything, but as the path turned to cobblestones, the entire way was lit by sunlight.

"What is it?" Goyle asked, glancing over at his companion. Draco eyed the two with an arched eyebrow.

"A house obviously," Crabbe answered, but he had stopped to gaze up at the manor.

The manor itself wasn't nearly half as large as Draco's own family home, but it was made of white wash stone and had red flags waving from the rooftops and streamers hanging in the windows that made it look more like a miniature castle than a house. The doors were large and on each side of them, they were flanked by the most oddly dressed animals. A Hippogriff paced back and forth in front of the huge, black iron gates dressed in armor and carrying a lance awkwardly in its wing. Draco swallowed. He _hated _Hippogriffs.

"Who lives there?" Draco asked, but Crabbe and Goyle had already set off down the path and were bowing deeply to the Hippogriff. Draco stood where he was, debating whether or not he even dared to follow. He glanced behind him. Surely the trail lead somewhere else - or else he might get lost and be stuck in this stupid place forever.

"Are you coming?" Crabbe asked, looking back at him. Yes, Crabbe definitely had it out for Draco's neck, if only because Draco subconsciously believed he had killed the boy. Finally with a nod, Draco hesitantly approached the Hippogriff.

"Are you here to see the Duchess as well?" the Hippogriff said and Draco nearly jumped out of his skin. The damn thing talked. Well, that was perfect. It was bad enough that regular Hippogriffs could sense when he was insulting them. This one would know precisely what he was saying. If he had feathers, they would definitely be ruffled.

"Y-yes," Draco said, blinking. He quietly admonished himself for stuttering. Draco _didn't _stutter. He had faced Death Eaters and Voldemort and a pissed off Potter, but he couldn't face a damn Hippogriff without stuttering? He truly was pathetic. Not to mention he had no idea who the Duchess was and if he really did want to see her or not.

The Hippogriff eyed him expectantly, its eyes slowly narrowing into slits. Draco swallowed before bowing. His back was so stiff as he did so that the discs in his spine popped. When he had straightened again, the Hippogriff shuffled to the side and swung its wing wide to let him pass. Wiping the sweat off his brow with the sleeve of his collared shirt, he quickly hurried passed the beast and after Crabbe and Goyle.

An altogether too-large frog dressed in footmen livery opened the large door for them and Draco eyed it with disgust. A toad dressed in clothes was the last thing that should have been in _his _imagination; that was certain. It was a revolting concept to be sure. As they were ushered into the foyer of the manor, Draco could hear a great ruckus coming from somewhere down the hall.

"Sit still, you stupid little thing!" shouted a female voice that sounded a bit lower than it ought. Crabbe and Goyle exchanged a curious look before wandering off down the hall and Draco was left with nothing to do but to follow. As he got nearer to the sound, he found himself rubbing at his eyes as they began to water and he was having trouble stifling a sneeze or two.

Coming to the room where all the noise seemed to be coming, Draco recognized another familiar face that he wished wasn't quite so familiar. Millicent Bulstrode was striding around the room, throwing some sort of thick dust into the air. She kept walking back and forth in front of a high chair that held a baby - by far the ugliest little troll Draco had ever seen; and he was pretty sure that it was just that. It definitely had to be the offspring of Millicent.

"Oh, Tweedles!" she cried as she saw Crabbe and Goyle, and she threw black dust into their faces. Both Crabbe and Goyle began to cough and splutter and sneeze and Draco stepped a few paces back, nearly out of the room altogether.

"What did you call them?" Draco asked, eyeing Millicent warily.

"Tweedles!" she said, looking a bit as though he'd insulted her. Wonderland was by far getting odder and odder. Crabbe and Goyle looked back at him.

"Tweedle Dee," said Crabbe, pointing to himself.

"And Tweedle Dum," said Goyle with a grin.

"Oh God," Draco answered with a roll of his eyes. Go figure. They were all some sort of character in this twisted novel of a world. It figured that Crabbe and Goyle would play the stupidest of them all. He should have known it by their matching clothes and the way they linked arms, but he had just thought it one of their many oddities. He decided that only some of the things in this world came from his mind; because the rest were just too absurd for him to think of.

The troll child began to wail and Millicent turned on it and threw black powder into its face. The baby snorted and coughed before laughing and clapping its grubby four-fingered paws together. Millicent seemed pleased.

"Where are you all off to then?" she asked, turning to Crabbe and Goyle. Draco thought of retorting with something sensible, but then decided he would rather stay out of the conversation.

"I'm certain that there was something we were here to tell you," said Crabbe and Goyle nodded along with him. "Something important."

"The Queen!" Goyle said suddenly, startling Draco. Merlin, this was weird. Draco couldn't help but close his eyes and wish as hard as he could that he'd be out of this nightmare soon.

"Yes, what about her?" Millicent demanded, shoving the high chair out of her way rather violently. The troll baby giggled and smashed its fists against the plastic tray. It began to splinter and Draco couldn't help but wince.

"Croquet!" Crabbe said with a grin, as though a light bulb had gone off in his head. A very dim one, that was.

"Yes, what about croquet?" asked Millicent, her face getting a bit red around the edges. Draco rubbed his temples. He was getting an awful headache. Perhaps he could sneak off and lie down for a while, at least until _this _blew over. He could _not _deal with three complete morons in one room. He had avoided them as best as he could at Hogwarts; now it seemed they were inescapable.

"The Queen would like to invite you to croquet or something," Draco muttered, recalling a bit of the book he'd read. The troll was supposed to be a pig or something and they were supposed to be cooking soup and the two morons weren't supposed to be there at all, but he supposed throwing a bit of nonsense into _this _pot wasn't going to make a big difference.

"Yes, exactly right!" Goyle said, nodding at Draco. "Did the Queen give you an invitation, too?"

Before Draco could respond, Millicent had plucked the troll from the high chair, holding it out at arm's length as though it were a disease (and judging from most of the trolls _he'd _met, he couldn't say that he blamed her). She shoved the child into Crabbe's arms before rushing past Draco.

"I must go before I lose my head!" Millicent said, disappearing out the door. Crabbe and Goyle nodded.

"Yes, us too!" Goyle said, pushing past Draco. Crabbe shoved the troll at Draco and Draco barely had time to register what was happening before they were gone and he holding the troll by the scruff of its shirt. Draco blinked at it. It blinked back. Then it grinned, exposing all its yellow sharp teeth and Draco quickly set it on the floor, taking three steps back from it.

Knowing troll children, it would likely survive on its own. And if it didn't well... that was probably a good thing, anyway.

Draco left the room and went down the hall and back out into the open air. There was, however, no one in sight. Not even the dreaded pacing Hippogriff was there. Fantastic. He was left alone again without anywhere to go and no idea how to get out of this absurdly annoying place. With a grunt, he started off down the steps and back onto the cobblestone path. Before long he was back in the woods - both literally and figuratively.


	4. Chapter 4

A branch snapped above Draco and was bent low, though there was nothing atop it and surely the tree wasn't moving on its own (though, with the animated flowers, it was hard to tell.)

Moving to push the branch aside and go around it, he found as he went to push it up that it wouldn't budge. It would move a little before snapping back down, as though there were someone bouncing up and down atop it. After a moment of pushing and pulling at the branch, Draco noticed something else a bit odd. Giggling. At first it would come from his left and then his right, taunting him.

Fed up, Draco released the branch and decided to trek through the underbrush around the tree altogether. As he turned, another branch snapped and bowed in his path and with each turn, the trees seemed to be closing him in.

"For Merlin's sake!" Draco snapped with a roll of his eyes. The giggles seemed to get louder. And then, on the branch in front of him, a cat materialized.

He should have known.

It wasn't really a cat, which by this point was to be completely expected. Loony Luna Lovegood sat on the branch in front of him, swinging her legs back and forth and playing with her false tail. She was, however, roughly the size of a cat - but that was about all. Draco couldn't help a growl of frustration.

"How do you even manage to get into my weird dreams?" Draco asked Luna the Cat, glaring at her. She was simply swaying her head from side to side with a silly smile on her face. Her lids were half shut and radish earrings swung along with her ridiculously long, blonde hair. Draco wondered vaguely if this place wasn't so incredibly strange because everyone was drugged. They all had that same dazed expression, though Luna usually wore it pretty much constantly - even in reality. "I barely know you. We've met twice through Potter and both times I thought you were completely barmy and yet here you are in my bloody imagination world."

"Tetchy," Luna sighed dreamily, still smiling as though he hadn't just insulted her.

Draco sighed. "Which way do I go?"

"Well," Luna said, pushing herself up onto the tree limb so that she was standing. She rocked back and forth with her hands clasped in front of her and Draco was positive she would fall off, but she seemed to have a very good balance. "That depends on where you want to go."

"Out. Out of here. I don't care as long as it's not _here_," said Draco angrily, glaring at the stupid cat girl.

"Well then, it doesn't matter, does it? Left, right, up, down, it's all the same if you don't care where you go," Luna said. Draco was tempted to wipe the wistful smile right off her face by strangling her to death, but he decided that would probably accomplish nothing and could he even really murder someone in a dream? And even if he did, he'd probably feel guilty about it later (for a crime that he didn't _really _commit) and that was simply more trouble than it was worth. "Perhaps it's not _where _you're going, but _who _you're going to. Are you looking for someone in particular? An Aunt perhaps? Mother? Maybe you're going to someone _special._"

Draco thought about it. Well, he was looking _for _Blaise, because he hoped Blaise could help him as one of Draco's closest friends. But judging from the fat lot of help the rest of the people he met were, Blaise probably would be no different. In fact, knowing Blaise in real life, he was bound to be worse. Smarter than Tweedle Dum and Tweedle Dee, but more nutty than the two combined. He thought.

"Potter," he decided at last. Potter was his partner. They were legally contracted to get each other out of binds, even if sometimes he'd rather leave Potter to face some deadly beast alone. Sure, this world was topsy turvy, but some things didn't change. "Harry Potter."

Luna's smile widened into something that was a bit creepier than it ought to be. Her eyes flashed.

"I know where he is," she said, rocking. "But you needn't follow me to find him. You'll find him yourself, eventually. But if you want my advice, just go straight ahead."

Luna quite suddenly vanished, leaving nothing but a toothy smile before that, too, disappeared. Draco rolled his eyes before grabbing the branch the loony girl had been sitting on and pushing it aside. He _would _have gone straight anyway, if she hadn't gotten in his way. Suddenly her voice piped up from behind him.

"Not that way, silly, _this _way!"

Draco hesitated and turned. Luna was bouncing on one of the other tree branches that she had no doubt pulled down herself. She gave a great leap and vanished, the tree branch shifting upwards with her weight no longer holding it down. Draco grumbled. Why was this so hard? Couldn't he just click his heels three times and be done with it?

Following the trail Luna had opened up for him, Draco rubbed the back of his head. He really _was _getting a headache. He'd never been so annoyed or irritated for so long in his life. Everything was starting to grate on his nerves. Even the thick canopy above blocking out the sun, making him shiver in the shade of the huge, looming trees. Not to mention the constant wandering about trying to find _someone _sane enough to help him out of here.

He felt as though he'd been walking for hours. His feet were sore and his legs were sore and his head throbbed painfully. His eyes were bloodshot from straining to see in the darkness of the forest. He decided he could endure it no longer. With a heavy thud, Draco seated himself on a large root, closing his eyes and pressing the palms of his hands into them.

"It would seem you're in quite a bind," came a low, drawling voice to Draco's right. The blond groaned. _No more_, he thought. He couldn't take the nonsense anymore. It was bad enough he had to put up with some of these people in real life, he didn't want to put up with them _here_. But the voice did sound strikingly familiar...

Opening his eyes, Draco looked over and nearly toppled off the root in shock.

"_Snape?"_ he exclaimed in surprise. He was doing that a _lot _lately. Indeed, his potions professor seemed to have taken on the likeness of a Caterpillar, which was all too disconcerting. It was especially strange since it wasn't like Ginny the False Mouse or Luna the Fake Cat or Blaise in a bunny suit. Severus Snape was genuinely a caterpillar, staring up at him from a patch of moss on a low tree branch.

"How thrilling," Snape drawled in a low tone that sent chills down Draco's spine. "To be remembered as simply _Snape_. Not _Severus_, the man who died to protect you all. Not _Severus Snape _the Halfblood Prince. No, just _Snape_."

Well, if there had ever been a more bitter tone in the entire world, Draco certainly didn't know of it. Snape's eyes narrowed at him. It was altogether quite creepy to be looking at the dead man in caterpillar form. Draco stared with his mouth half open, unable to say much of anything. What was he supposed to say? Glad to see you're alive and not... a butterfly?

"Don't just sit there catching flies, boy," Snape sneered, crawling a bit towards him. Draco shuddered. "What are you doing here?"

Draco finally spoke up.

"I fell into a book. Or maybe I fell unconscious. I'm not really sure, but I know that it's Potter's fault," he said, rubbing his hands on his arms to warm them. He wasn't really sure if the gooseflesh was from the coolness of the forest of the caterpillar staring up at him with beady eyes.

"Most everything is," Snape said with a solemn nod. Draco could have laughed, but felt it rather inappropriate to laugh at a dead man... caterpillar. Thing. It was sort of nice to speak to someone who _didn't _talk in riddles or act completely stupid or mad. Even dead, Draco could always count on Snape for _that_. Draco sighed.

"I'm sorry," he said, leaning back on the root.

"For what?" asked Snape, tilting his head.

"For everything," Draco answered, looking away. This was actually quite hard. Certainly something this silly shouldn't have evoked such emotions in him, but he couldn't help it. Snape was dead. In real life. And even if he wasn't really _real _here, it was nice to be able to speak to him again and apologize. "For everything I caused. Everything I did. You did a lot for me. Too much for me."

"I did nothing for you, idiot boy," Snape said, though his tone was anything but harsh. He seemed to have adopted the dreamy haze that everything else here had, but it was comforting in a way. "I did everything to keep my cover intact. I did everything to defeat the Dark Lord. What you had done was foolish, yes, but you were a child. Mistakes are made. My end was as it should have been and would have been, had things been even slightly different."

With a sigh, Draco put his face into his hands. He felt miserable. He ached all over, was positively annoyed to death of this world that didn't exist and now he was face to face with his unwilling tormentor. Even to hear the words Snape spoke bore little comfort; how could he trust the words of someone who no longer existed? None of this was real. Snape wasn't real.

"Know this," continued Snape. "I would not have you blame yourself for my death. Put blame where it is rightfully deserved; on the Dark Lord's head. Even if you do not believe me, believe that truth. And on the same note, blame only yourself for this misadventure. We both know Potter had nothing to do with it."

Draco had begun to feel a bit of hope in Snape's words before his former Potions Professor brought it all crashing down. He gave a growl of frustration. "Now you're siding with _him_?" When Draco looked at him, Snape seemed to be smiling with his little caterpillar mouth.

"Blame where blame belongs," he answered. "But if it makes you feel better, blaming Potter never hurt anyone. Well, perhaps him, but it is fully deserved for being an ignorant, stupid boy."

Draco couldn't help but smile.

"I suppose he's not that bad," said Draco with a shrug. Snape's look turned a bit sour.

"I _suppose_," he drawled. "However, I don't believe my job was to give you otherworldly advice, but rather to give you this bit of cake."

Draco looked at the caterpillar, raising an eyebrow. "Cake?"

Snape nodded towards a spot on the root beside Draco. "Don't look at me," Snape said. "I always hated cake."

And indeed, on the root beside Draco was a small cupcake, covered with blue icing with white sprinkles. Draco hated sprinkles, but he didn't hate cake, so he took it. Snape nodded at him to eat it and when Draco bit into the blue delight, he found immediately the aches in his joints and feet disappearing. Even the headache that had been nagging at the back of his skull seemed to vanish. With those annoyances gone and a bit of otherworldly advice, as Snape the Caterpillar had put it, Draco felt quite a bit better.

"Not much farther 'til you find what you're looking for," Snape said, before crawling along the moss of the branch and disappearing into a small hole.


	5. Chapter 5

With a boost of energy, Draco had begun walking down the forest path again. With the words Snape had given him and what Luna had said stuck in his mind, he was fairly certain he'd run into someone again soon. After all, it didn't seem like he could go very long in this world without running into some raving nutter. And as though responding to his lifted spirits, the forest began to open up.

The canopy above began to be less dense, letting in shafts of light that Draco would stand in for a moment to get warm before trudging on. Eventually the path opened up completely, and the trees began to dwindle. A thick layer of dried and brittle leaves covered the path, but with the forest now open and considerably brighter, Draco didn't worry about losing the path.

Descending a little hill, Draco saw something that made him stop in his tracks, if only for a moment.

At the base of the hill, where the trees had completely cleared, was a crooked little house that vaguely resembled the Weasley home in Ottery St. Catchpole (Draco had been there once and even he, having grown up with magic, was terrified the entire thing would topple and crush him.) In front was a strange garden, filled with odd plants that Draco couldn't identify that seemed to have been planted at random. There was absolutely no rhyme or reason to it and Draco couldn't decide if it aesthetically pleasing at all or not.

In the middle of the garden sat a long table, filled with dishes of various shapes and colors and sizes. It was surrounded with high-backed chairs but only two of the chairs seemed to have been occupied. At the top of the hill, all Draco could make out was two tall hats, so he quickly descended to see exactly whom it was sitting at the table.

Entering the garden through a small gate, he found himself barraged with a variety of flowery smells that made his head feel light and his vision dim. Blinking the bleariness out of his eyes, he followed the winding path that dodged various large plants and before long found himself at the center.

"I told him he'd come looking for me again!" cried a tiny voice from the table and Draco watched as a tiny form scampered across the linen tablecloth and over dishes and through a teapot handle. Tiny Ginny Weasley came to a stop, putting her hands on her hips and looking triumphant. Her false ears were crooked and her hair was no longer held in pigtails, but instead in a messy fray around her head. "Didn't I say?"

"You did," came a voice from the end of the table and Draco looked up. Potter was sitting at the very end with a beaten hat on his head that still had the tag sticking out of the ribbon that was tied around it. He had a goofy smile on his face that unnerved Draco. Blast, even Potter was mad. Beside him sat the only other person that Draco could have wished to see _least_. Ron Weasley had his feet up on the table, wearing more of a bowler than a top hat, but attached to the top were two floppy ears.

Fantastic. More rabbit people.

"Did you really come for her?" asked Ron with a raised eyebrow, swinging a teacup around by the handle with his index finger. "Because no one ever does. Except that loony cat, which is odd I've said, because she is a mouse and _she _is a cat."

Draco ignored Ron. It was in his best interest to do so, actually.

"As if you could judge anything odd," said Potter, laughing at his friend. He tilted his top hat back and sipped a cup of tea. "You fancy the White Queen and everyone knows that a Hare and a Queen don't mix."

"Do not!" Ron cried, tossing the teacup at his best mate. Draco watched with wide-eyes. All Snape had said had gone out the window. His hopes that Potter would help him were dashed. They were all mad here, what was he to expect? There wasn't any way he was getting out of here unless it was by his own hand. "She's a bloody know-it-all, nobody would fancy her."

"Hm," Potter said in response, that odd smile still tugging at the corners of his lips. Suddenly he leapt up from his chair, jumped onto the table and began crashing through the porcelain dishes toward where Draco stood. Draco took a few steps back in alarm. Once he'd reached the end of the long table, Potter gave a great leap off and came to stand in front of him. He put both hands on Draco's shoulders and grinned.

"So, come to see the Dormouse, then?" he said with a wink. Draco wasn't really sure what _that _was supposed to mean, but he simply shook his head. He didn't exactly know what to say to Potter at all, considering he was mad. Generally Draco didn't look for Potter's help, but when he did, Potter was usually good at providing it. It didn't seem that that would be the case here. "Ah, not our little Weasel then? Perhaps the Hare? He's a bit mad, but aren't we all?"

"No," Draco said at once. He wanted to avoid Ron as much as possible. He glanced over Potter's shoulder. Ron cracked his knuckles before waving at him. The ears on his hat flopped from side to side and he laughed at some joke that no one had told.

"Then there's only one person left," said Potter, tapping his fingers against his chin.

"It's you, Hatter!" cried Ginny from the table, jumping up and down and clapping her very tiny hands. "Of course he's come to see _you_. Everyone does!"

"That is true," Potter laughed. "Everyone does, don't they?"

With that, Potter threw his arm around Draco's shoulders in a fashion Draco was definitely not used to. Sure, they worked together just fine, but they're conversations were more often than not peppered with insults and arguments. Potter would do something nice, Draco would tease him for it, and that would be the end of that. Draco felt he should have said something insulting, but he couldn't bring himself to. They were all barmy here, so who knew what they would do?

"So, what is it I can do for you? Would you like a hat? Your head is rather bare and I do have a lot of them," Potter asked, directing Draco alongside the table.

"A hat! A hat!" Ginny squeaked, rushing alongside them excitedly. Draco grimaced.

"No? Some tea then? I had a friend who always said a cup of tea could solve anything. That or lemon drops. I don't think I have any of those though. The Hare ate them all," Potter cast a withering glare at Ron, but Ron laughed and shrugged. Potter pulled out a chair and all but shoved Draco into it.

"I'd like to get out of here," Draco grumbled, staring hard at the empty, chipped tea cup in front of him.

"Leave?" Potter cried, looking affronted. Draco shifted away from him, but he held Draco's chair tight. Potter leaned forward, throwing his arms over Draco's shoulders and speaking into his ear in a hushed tone that made goose bumps cover Draco's arms. His breath smelled of lemon and tea. "But you've just got here!"

Just as Draco thought he could get no more uncomfortable, Potter swept away from him, plunking himself in the seat at the head of the table. He entwined his fingers, propped up his elbows and placed his chin on the top of his hands. "But if it is away you want, then away you must. I shall help."

"Okay..." Draco said hesitantly, his gaze shifting from Potter to Weasley and back again warily. "You know how, then?"

Potter laughed. "Of course not. None of us do, or else why would we be here?" Then, dropping his voice into a hushed whisper that only Draco could hear. "Just between you and me, I can't stand mad people."

Draco groaned and put his face in his hands. This was so hopeless. Why did he even bother?

"But like I said, I'll help you find a way," said Potter, patting Draco's shoulder and sipping tea with his free hand. Suddenly he dropped his cup with a smash, making Draco jerk back from the table. His grip on Draco's shoulder suddenly grew painfully tight. "Look, it's the Rabbit! Hullo, Rabbit!"

Draco looked down at the end of the table where he had just come and there stood Blaise, pulling on one of his false ears. He was swinging a pocket watch around with his finger, very much the same way Ron had been winging about the teacup.

"Would you like some tea?" asked Ginny, pushing a tea cup towards Blaise. Draco eyed Blaise, who looked a bit nervous. Potter also seemed to be acting a bit odd (odder, given the circumstances.)

"Time to go!" Ron laughed, jumping up from his seat and snatching Ginny off the table, depositing his sister in his waistcoat pocket. She squealed and he yelped, nearly dropping her. "Don't be mean, little mouse, or I'll feed you to the cat!"

"That cat won't eat me! She doesn't eat mice, you know!" yelled Ginny from her spot in Ron's coat, her tiny arms waving around as she tried to pull herself out. Draco shook his head at them and looked back at Blaise.

"You have all been summoned to the Queen's court," said Blaise looking solemn, but there was that familiar mischievous glint in his eye. Draco could only wonder what Blaise was thinking or, rather, planning, but it was hard to concentrate on anything aside from the nails digging into the back of his shoulder.

"Potter," Draco hissed, glaring at the other man. Potter blinked and looked at Draco before realizing what he was doing. He immediately released Draco's shoulder from its death grip and gave a sort of nervous laugh.

"Sorry, sorry," he said, tossing Draco another wink. He stood up from his chair and grabbed Draco by the arm, pulling him along with him. "We've been summoned, so we must go or else I have reason to fear that we might all lose our heads."

"The Hare's already lost his!" squeaked Ginny, sounding as though she might have been laughing but it came out in tiny chirrups.

"Pipe down you, or tomorrow we'll be having mouse tea!" Ron admonished, flicking the false ears off Ginny's head. She thrashed about some, glaring fiercely at her older brother.

"Well, that would taste just awful," Potter said with a chuckle, entwining his arm with Draco's. Potter seemed to have some sort of authority in this place, because he began to lead Ron (with Ginny in his pocket) and Blaise out of the garden, dragging Draco wherever he went. Draco had _tried _to pull away, but Potter had put a fuss and patted his arm and merely said, "I'll help, I'll help."

Ron and Ginny walked behind them, talking quietly about some stupid story that had to do with three girls who lived in a treacle well. Blaise was taking up the rear, but when Draco glanced back, he seemed to take that as an invitation to move forward. Ron scowled at him as he passed and soon Draco was stuck in between Potter and Blaise.

"I've been looking for you everywhere," Draco muttered to his friend, glancing sideways at Potter as he said so. Blaise nodded solemnly.

"Yes, well, you know, life as a rabbit is actually quite busy. I've been passing out all these invitations for some stupid croquet game and then, _then _she wants to hold a court or something. I think she's having a formal execution for someone, but I have no idea who," said Blaise, and Draco hung his head. Well, he'd suspected that Blaise, too, would be off his rocker. He didn't know why he even bothered to hope he'd find someone sane here. "I mean, don't get me wrong, it's better than standing around talking to that daffodil, but I'm sure I could find something more... pleasant to do, if you catch my meaning."

Draco snorted. Some things never changed.

"I quite agree," Potter said suddenly, grinning from ear to ear. "What is life if you can't have a bit of fun?"

"Precisely what I said! Well, not to her face, you know, because I do like my head where it is," answered Blaise. "But I would have if she didn't get such a kick out of seeing people's head roll off the chopping block. Personally, I think she just needs a good -"

"Here we are!" Potter swiftly cut Blaise off, casting Draco a knowing look that Draco didn't altogether understand. They had stopped in front of a huge tree that seemed to tower over all the rest. At first, Draco was more than a little confused by this (but not altogether surprised) until Potter dug around in his pockets and pulled out a small golden key. He winked at Draco before reaching forward and sliding the key into one of the tree's many knots and as he did so, a small door appeared. Potter grinned at him. "After you."


	6. Chapter 6

Potter _finally _released Draco's arm from his death grip, but only to shove Draco through the open door. Draco stumbled and nearly tripped on a root, but once he'd passed through the door, he found himself in another garden – this one much larger and more beautiful than any of the others he'd seen. Casting a dark shadow over it, however, was a large castle that looked like a larger version of the Duchess' manor.

Potter came out of the door shortly after he had and nearly ran straight into Draco's back. Before he did so, he wrapped his arms around Draco's shoulders and laughed, making Draco immediately stiffen and inch away from the other man. Merlin, Potter was weird. He seemed _overly _touchy feely in this other dimension, whereas in reality, Potter seemed to shy away from touch. Not that Draco had ever been inclined to _touch _him, but even when his girlfriend (at the time) came around the workplace, Potter withdrew into himself.

So basically, Draco was stuck with bizarro feelings Potter. He wasn't sure he entirely disliked this Potter, either, which startled him.

"Ah, the Queen's castle," Potter said in Draco's ear, as though it were a secret when it most obviously wasn't. He jumped back and put both hands on Draco's shoulders, frog-marching him forward. "You first. I don't want to lose my head and I'm quite certain if _she _doesn't see me, I might be inclined to keep it. Not that I want you to lose your head, of course, but if you don't mind, I'd rather keep mine."

Draco rolled his eyes and let himself be marched through the garden. They passed what seemed like acres upon acres of red rose bushes, but every now and then he thought he saw a white one hidden amongst the foliage, which was rather odd since red rose bushes didn't often sprout white roses, if ever. Draco shook his head. Everything was odd here, what did he expect?

They passed a dozen guards, which were naturally nothing more than a deck of cards about as tall as he was.

"What is your business?" one asked as they were about to leave the garden.

"We were invited to court," said Ron, whom had been keeping up behind them. Ron, Blaise and the tiny Weasley mouse looked miserable, though Draco couldn't really understand why - though he'd never gotten this far in the book, so it was hard to say if he should understand why or not. "But, if you don't mind, I'd rather not be allowed to enter. Entering is bad luck, it is."

"He's mad, don't listen to him," Blaise said at once, glaring at Ron venomously. He hissed something at Ron under his breath and Ron straightened up, but didn't look any happier about it. Ginny laughed in his pocket before abruptly covering her mouth and sinking down lower, as though she didn't want to be spotted.

"Invited, you say?" the Three of Hearts said, glancing at the guard that stood on the other side of the entrance. Draco had a sinking feeling that made him want to run as far away from this place. The guards had creepy smiles on their faces, but perhaps they were normal smiles and merely looked creepy because they were actually cards. It was hard to tell. "Well then, off you go! Wouldn't want the Queen's invited guests missing court."

Potter pushed Draco forward, saluted the guards with an odd smile, before slipping to Draco's side, his arm wrapped around his shoulders and slipping lower the further away from the guards they got. Draco wasn't sure he was entirely comfortable with _that_, Bizarro Potter or not.

"To your left you'll see the Queen's limited collection of ugly art," Potter said, as though he were touring Draco through a museum. He waved his left hand and Draco looked over. The art was truly atrocious. He'd never seen anything more hideous - although, it could have been that the subjects had been hideous to paint. Either way, they should have been burned. And then he realized something. Despite the horrid art, there was something familiar about the women and men in the paintings... "It's of the royal families, of course. They're all rather an ugly lot."

"Ugly, ugly! Don't let her catch you saying her family's ugly! She'll have your head faster than you can blink!" said Ron in a whisper, looking cautiously about as though he were afraid something might jump out at him. Who knew? Maybe something would. "And then what would you do? Going around headless wouldn't do."

"Oh, she's really not that bad," Blaise said, though he didn't look sure of it himself as he said it. "I mean, if you don't make her angry. Or give her any reason to look at you twice."

"Shh, be quiet. We're almost there," Ginny hissed from Ron's coat pocket.

"Yes, yes, that we are," Potter answered with a sombre look. They stood in front of two oversized doors that were flanked with card-guards. Upon their arrival, the guards shifted slowly at first before ushering them through the giant doors and into an even bigger hall. There were rows upon rows of pews, and at the front of the room were a judge's station and a cage, no doubt for prisoners.

"When you said court, I thought you meant like a ball or something," Draco said to Blaise, glancing over at his friend. Blaise looked about with shifty eyes.

"Of course not, there are no balls or anything fun around here," Blaise said, and for a moment he pouted.

"SIT!" a voice shrieked from the front of the room. The courtroom was filled with various odd animals. The Duchess (or rather, Millicent) was seated near the front with Crabbe and Goyle on either side of her. There were familiar faces mixed in with the animals. Theodore Nott wore an executioner's uniform near an odd shaped block. He had a huge axe that he seemed to be having issue holding up. In the pews, Neville Longbottom was fidgeting and talking in a low voice to Lavender Brown. They both wore ridiculous getups. Luna the Cat floated in midair above everyone, her false tail swishing back and forth.

Potter grabbed Draco's hand and pulled him toward an empty pew.

"NOT HIM!" shrieked the voice. It was familiar, just like everyone else in this odd place, but Draco didn't see where it was coming from at first. Then he realized that behind the judge's station was a woman dressed from head to toe in red. There was an odd, lacy sort of hat on her head that resembled a crown. And then, Draco realized with a start that it was Pansy Parkinson - which explained the ugly looking family. Pansy herself wasn't terrible looking, compared with the rest of her family, but she certainly wasn't pretty. And with her face covered in ridiculous makeup, she looked worse than usual.

She was pointing directly at him.

"Bad luck," Ron whispered from the pew behind them. "Sorry about your head."

"Don't worry," said Potter, patting his arm. "I'll think of something."

That wasn't exactly reassuring, especially when Draco had no idea what Potter was talking about.

Two guards suddenly flanked him, gripping his upper-arms tightly and marching him toward the front of the room - as if he couldn't get there himself. What was it with everyone marching him everywhere? He had legs and he could use them just fine, thank you. There was a bench in front of the judge's station and they shoved him down onto it. He wanted to say something about their rudeness, but the look on Pansy's face shut him. She looked _furious_.

Pansy slammed her hands down on the desk in front of her.

"I have gathered you all here to witness a formal execution!" she said loudly, her voice bordering on a screech. Draco winced. There was a reason he had left Pansy in the dust after he'd left Hogwarts. She had been one person he'd been more than thankful to be rid of - especially what with their arranged marriage and all, up until his dad died.

"Trial first!" piped a voice in the back. It was shrill, but it sounded a bit like Potter. Draco glanced behind him. Potter winked.

"STUPID!" Pansy shrieked, making Draco jump. "SENTENCE FIRST!"

Draco blinked.

"OFF WITH HIS HEAD!" she yelled, pointing at Draco. _Fantastic_. A wonderful end to a wonderful journey. It was fitting, really. Draco couldn't even summon up the energy to be properly appalled or even remotely terrified at the thought of having his head chopped off. He couldn't really die here, could he? What with this being a dream and all...

"Trial first!" came Potter's voice again, but it was from an entirely different part of the room.

"Yes, trial first!" said Luna, startling Draco. She was hovering directly above his head. "I want to know! What has he done?"

Pansy's face turned red and she was glaring at the faux-cat above Draco's head. But eventually she took a breath and slammed the gavel. "He has deceived us all! He is a liar! Falsifier!"

"_What?" _Draco blurted out, his eyes widening. As if he had ever lied about anything! Well, okay, there was a lot back in school, but he was on the semi straight and narrow now. He tried not to lie as much as he had in the past. There were a _few _things that he just didn't _mention, _but that was more withholding information than _lying_. And in any case, since when did lying end up with your head on the block?

"YOU!" Pansy shrieked, wiggling her finger at him. "_You. _We were supposed to get married!"

Draco snorted. "Not my idea. That would have been a miserable relationship. And I hardly lied about it."

Pansy's face was the color of her dress. Now she really _was _red head to toe. Perhaps that hadn't been the right thing to say to the woman who had the authority to behead you.

"That's not all!" Pansy was suddenly marching down the steps that lead up to the judge's chair. She was so mad she was practically spitting. It would have been hilarious had it not been directed at Draco. "You said you weren't romantically involved with anyone when we split! And yet here you are! You _lied_."

"What on earth..." Draco began to say, but Pansy had turned off in another direction. Her finger was waggling at someone else in the pews. When Draco followed the direction of her finger, she was pointing at Potter. He nearly choked in shock. His stomach plummeted, though Draco could hardly see why. "Please! Why would I be romantically _involved _with Potter?"

"Why not!" asked Pansy, turning on him. "You work with him. You look forward to seeing him every day, even if you deny it! I know these things, _Draco_. You bring him coffee every morning, even though none of the others in the office do that for their partners."

Draco snorted. "So I bring him coffee, since when is that a crime?"

"Would you do it for anyone else? If _I _were your partner, would you bring _me _coffee?" Pansy was quite close to him now, shoving herself and her brightly coloured dress into his personal space (which she knew he hated.) Draco thought about the question.

"Well, of course I wouldn't bring _you _coffee," he said with a roll of his eyes. "I don't even like you, not really."

"HA! _See! _You like him!" she shrieked in his face. Draco blinked, tempted to shove her away, but decided that might be a bad idea in his predicament.

"So what if I do? I like a lot of people," he said with a shrug. It was odd. He'd never thought about _liking _Potter at all. He had firmly put it in his mind that he merely tolerated Potter's presence. But she had a point. Why _did _Draco bring him coffee (just the way he liked it) every morning? Merlin knew since all his assets were repossessed, buying a coffee every morning for himself let alone Potter was not doing his pocketbook any good. Still, he did it and didn't think twice about it.

"Alright then," hissed Pansy, slinking even closer. She was practically pressed against him. He shuddered. "Then tell me this. When was the last time you dated someone? _Hm?"_

Draco raised an eyebrow. "I don't -"

"HA! You don't what? Don't date? Or don't date _women? _OR don't date people who aren't named _Potter?_"

"Would you shut up?" said Draco exasperatedly. Her mouth fell open, as though no one had ever said that to her before. He knew he had, at least in reality. Maybe here no one had had the nerve to. Her face was turning purple.

"OFF WITH HIS HEAD!" she screamed.

"Okay, okay!" said Draco hurriedly, trying to think of an excuse to buy himself some time. But he couldn't think of anything. In fact, all he could think about was what she'd said. Why didn't he date? He'd pretty much refused any advance made by any of his female coworkers - to the point where they didn't even bother anymore. And plenty of them were attractive, he supposed. Blaise and Daphne had tried to set him up on countless dates, though he'd flat out refused most of those, too (and the ones he had gone on were horrid.) "I... I don't know, all right?"

"AHA! You even deceive yourself!" said Pansy, looking triumphant. There were murmurs through the court. Draco wasn't sure he very much liked his _dating _life being debated like this in front of everyone.

"How on earth can I deceive myself?" he asked, feeling entirely perplexed. This was probably the oddest bit in the entire dream.

"I find you guilty of all charges. Now can we _please _cut off his head?" Pansy yelled, looking pointedly at Theodore. Theodore looked at his axe and sighed, hefting the giant thing over his shoulder. He nodded.

"I object or something!" said Potter, suddenly striding up the center of the pews. He jumped onto the bench beside Draco with flourish.

"You can't object! No one objects in my court!" Pansy shrieked. "OFF WITH HIS HEAD!"

Draco rubbed his ear. He never knew Pansy could scream so loud. Potter leapt from the bench and landed in front of the red-dressed bint. He reached over and grabbed Draco's arm and pulled him to his feet so abruptly that Draco all but fell into him. Pansy was shaking from head to toe, her face a mask of rage.

"Now, see here!" Potter was shaking his finger in Pansy's face. There were gasps and snickers in the audience (which was what they were, really.) "Whether or not we have something is entirely nobody's business!" He turned to Draco. "Do we have something here?"

"Uh -" Draco started, wide-eyed. How could Potter even be taking this lightly? Well, of course, he wasn't the real Potter, so maybe that had something to do with it. Also they were all daft... Suddenly Potter was very close to him, indeed and Draco felt himself involuntarily shrinking away. Potter turned and grabbed Draco by the back of the head (rather roughly, Draco might add) and pressed his lips against the blonde's. It was the most startling, awkward thing Draco had ever experienced.

And yet a slight trill of excitement ran through him, leaving his lips feeling numb and tingly and his head slightly dazed. It seemed all at once too short and yet forever lasting, but Potter pulled away and tilted his head. Then he grinned - madly.

"So? Is there something to be had?" the crazed Potter asked, clutching Draco's hand in his. God, this was too weird. And oddly pleasant. No, that wasn't right.

"OFF WITH THEIR HEADS!"

Pansy was marching over to Theodore and for a moment wrestled with him for the axe. Draco was sure she wouldn't even be able to lift it, but in a surprising display of strength, she swung the axe around her, nearly taking off Theo's head in the process. She marched over to where Draco stood, Potter practically wrapped around him. When she swung the axe, they both ducked and Potter launched himself against Draco so that they went tumbling away from the mad woman.

"Shall we run?" Potter asked, looking down at Draco. He'd landed on top of him in a rather uncomfortable position.

"Um," was all Draco could get out. His mind was reeling. Potter had kissed him. Pansy was trying to take off their heads. Potter had _kissed him_. It wasn't real, he told himself, but it certainly _felt _real enough. Blasted spelled book. He would destroy the bloody thing to bits when he got back to reality for making him so damn confused.

The axe slammed into a bench near their heads, making Draco jump. A piece of bench smacked him in the side of the head, leaving him feeling dazed and groggy. Potter was yelling at him, but the bit of bench had hit him in the left ear, making it a bit hard to hear properly.

Draco blinked and everything seemed to go a bit hazy. Potter's face blurred with the background and it seemed he was sinking into a white fog. He felt like he was quite literally falling through the floor. Although he tried hard to focus on something - _anything - _it seemed impossible.

He shut his eyes tightly, hoping it would pass quickly and hopefully that in the downtime, Pansy wouldn't chop off his head. Unless she already had, which would explain the floaty feeling.

"Draco!" there was Potter, shaking his shoulders and shouting at him. His ear was ringing from where the bench had hit him. He opened his eyes, one at a time, and was relieved to see (or feel) that his head was still on his shoulders, no matter how badly it seemed to ache.

"Thank Merlin," he muttered, before realizing that Potter looked a bit different. He looked normal. There was no hat on his head, no oddly coloured suit and behind him he could see walls and walls of books. He was back in reality. Back in the Ministry of Magic. Potter quickly helped him into a sitting position from where he'd apparently been lying on the floor.

"You're telling me," Potter sighed, slumping beside him. "I thought that stupid book had killed you."

Draco blanched. "Killed me?"

"You've been out for about five minutes. You stopped breathing. I thought you were dead," he said, relief written across his face. He seemed... odd. His eyes were red and his nose a bit blotchy, as though he'd been on the verge of crying. Draco had never seen Potter cry before, or even been close to it.

"Yes, well, I thought I was, too," Draco muttered, rubbing his neck absent-mindedly. Although he briefly looked around the room, his gaze kept landing on Potter.

"What?" Potter asked, looking at him in confusion. Draco hadn't realized he'd been staring, much less staring with a stupid smile on his face. "I think you hit your head when you fell."

"That would explain a lot," said Draco. He rubbed his ear. There was a painful bump just behind it, where the bench had hit him. Or, alternatively, where he'd fallen. "I thought I'd been pulled into the book."

"You imagined you were in Alice in Wonderland?" Potter looked incredulous. Well, he didn't blame him. Being sucked into a book wasn't exactly a normal thing, even in the wizarding world.

"Yes," said Draco before sniffing. "What is that smell?"

Potter looked a bit sheepish. "Well, when you weren't coming around, I sort of got... upset," he said, motioning to a waste bin nearby that seemed to be smouldering. "I burned the book."

"You got upset?" asked Draco, trying to keep his composure. He wanted to laugh. He wanted to cry. His emotions were so tangled and bizarre, that he wasn't really sure what to do at all. Potter had been upset about him. That he'd almost died. Potter had kissed him in the book (or his head, whichever) and saved his life. Possibly twice.

Potter shrugged. His cheeks were turning red. "You're my partner. I mean... we've worked together for nearly three years. You're... my friend, I guess."

"Friend?" asked Draco, not sure whether to be elated by the news or disappointed. Draco stared at his hands. For some odd reason, he wanted to grab Potter and kiss him. Again. For caring. For considering Draco his friend, though Draco was beginning to feel like he wanted much more than that. He didn't react on the impulse though and merely nodded. "Yes, I suppose we are friends."

"So," Potter said, leaning back on his hands. The books of the Ministry's library were abandoned. "What did you do in Wonderland?"

So Draco told him, carefully leaving out certain bits - like the part with Snape, and the touchy-feely bizarro Harry. Harry laughed at Ginny and Ron, and said that he would have liked to have seen it, though Draco couldn't understand why.

"So how did you get away from Pansy?" Harry asked, a silly smile on his face. Draco hesitated, but decided that it didn't really matter anymore.

"You saved me," he said honestly with a shrug. "I mean, the Mad Hatter, I guess, did. You... pissed her off quite a bit and then we had to run for it. That's about when I woke up."

"Now _that _I would have liked to have seen. Pansy's always drove me crazy with her squished nose and annoying voice," said Harry, laughing. Draco thought he rather liked the sound of Harry's laugh. He'd never really considered it before. Not really.

"At least you weren't _betrothed _to her," Draco said, saying the word as though it were some nasty disease. Well, to be perfectly honest, he thought it was. No one should be forced to marry a pug-faced, screechy girl like Pansy - or anyone they didn't like. Although he wouldn't call it a stroke of luck when his father died, it did have its benefits.

Harry got an odd look on his face, but it passed quickly. "So how did I piss her off?"

Draco's voice died in his throat. What did he say then? He hadn't exactly told Harry the entire story. Although he'd mentioned the relationship bit of it, he hadn't mentioned Harry's involvement. He bit his lip, trying to think of something quickly but coming up with nothing. Finally he said, "I'm pretty sure it was just to take the piss out of her, but you..." he faltered. Harry frowned. "You kissed me."

Harry's face went blank. Draco couldn't tell if he was shocked or disgusted or if he thought the whole thing ridiculous. Draco had a hard time stifling his own emotions. It was impossible, what with the mad flurry they seemed to be in as of the last half hour.

"Kissed... you," said Harry, as though to clarify. Draco nodded numbly. Great, he thought. Now I've gone and done it.

"Like I said, everything there was more than a bit insane," he said with a shrug. "And it was just a dream... thing."

"Right," Harry said, nodding. There was a thick silence between them. Draco had no idea what to say, how he could clarify to make it better, or if it even could be made better. There was definitely something awkward about sharing a kiss with your former enemy (even if in a dream) that made the entire conversation come to a screeching halt. He could have cut the tension with a knife. Draco nervously shifted, before moving to stand up. Maybe it was best they get back to work sorting books.

But Harry's hand snaked out and grabbed Draco's wrist, and with his head throbbing the way it was, he was a bit off balance. He fell back down with a thump to the floor, looking wide-eyed at Harry as the wild-haired man drew closer, pressing Draco into the floor with one hand and holding the other tightly in his fist. Draco thought for certain Harry was going to do something rash, like hit him or curse him or _something_.

But then he quickly realized that the position wasn't really conducive to those things, but rather to...

Draco's thoughts fled him instantly the moment Harry's mouth crushed against his, his hand moving from his chest to cup the side of his face. Harry had let go of his wrist and was using his arm to support his weight, his legs spaced apart between Draco's. The kiss was gentle, but intense and like the first, Draco was shocked out of his wits. He barely had time to think before he was reacting, reaching behind Harry and pulled him closer so that their chests were pressed so tightly together not a sliver of light could pass between them. Harry's lips were warm and soft and his mouth tasted of coffee - the kind Draco brought him every morning.

It lasted a lot longer than the first (which wasn't really a first, since that had all been in his head), and they only parted because they were both intensely winded. Harry was breathing deeply, while Draco's own breath came in rather shocked bursts. He couldn't seem to get enough air and everything seemed very hot. As if sensing his thoughts, Harry began pushing him out of his robes.

That was when Draco decided that perhaps bizarro Potter wasn't too far off. Harry could be _very _touchy feely.


End file.
